Reconstructing Maude Donovan
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Maude's husband Cristian de la Torres offers to go to the bank so that Bart can take his wife to lunch. Nobody expects what comes next, and what a long path it is to get home again.
1. Prologue

Prologue

Maude Donovan is my mother-in-law. Actually her name is Maude de la Torres, but she's gone back to using Donovan because it's easier. And, I might add, not as painful.

My name is Bart Maverick, and I'm married to Maude's stunningly beautiful daughter, Doralice. We have three children of our own, with a fourth one on the way, and we live in the town of Little Bend, Texas. I first met Maude years ago, one night when I was one of four Maverick men that walked into her saloon and sat down to play poker.

Nobody could resist Maude. She was bright and beautiful, honest and fair, and in desperate need of someone to slip into Mexico and rescue her daughter from the hangman's noose. It's a long story and I've told the tale elsewhere; suffice it to say that I became something of a hero when I brought Doralice back from certain death.

The years passed and me and Doralice grew closer – Maude was doing some 'growing closer' of her own. Her attorney's name was Cristian de la Torres, and he was several years younger than Maude – but just as honest and upstanding as she was. With a modicum of encouragement they began seeing each other, and after several years of keeping company they took the final step and married.

We were all thrilled, myself included, and Maude spent a lot of time on the road with Cristian. His reputation as a skilled attorney had grown over the years and he was in wide demand around the state of Texas. Eventually Doralice and me married, and when we began havin' babies, I took over management of her saloon. That freed Maude to spend as much time travelling with her husband as she wanted, and they seemed blissfully happy. Until that day in June, right before her second grandson, Breton, was born.

When it was all over, what we had left of Maude was splintered into a million little pieces, and it was up to us to reconstruct Maude Donovan.


	2. A Robber Walks Into the Bank

Chapter 1 – A Robber Walks Into the Bank

Doralice stood in my office and waited for me to make my decision. "It's a simple question, Bart. Do you want to go to lunch with me or not?"

I sat back and let a smile play around my lips. "Let's see, sit here and go hungry the rest of the afternoon, or go to lunch with my beautiful wife. I wonder which one I'd rather do?"

"Smart aleck," she laughed.

Then I got serious. "You know I'd rather take you to lunch, but I have to take yesterday's deposit to the bank. Can you wait for me to get back?" I don't know how much you know about ladies about to give birth, but when they're hungry they're hungry RIGHT NOW.

Unexpectedly, a familiar face appeared at my office door. Cristian's. "I wasn't eavesdropping," he insisted, "but I heard you mention going to the bank. I have some business down there. You have a deposit ready to go? I could take it for you."

Just what I needed – somebody trustworthy to go in my stead. "I do have one almost ready, Cristian, and I'd appreciate if you'd do that. That way I can feed the mommy-to-be. NOW."

The only one not laughing was Doralice. "Let's go, then. I'm starving."

I finished with the deposit and handed it to Cristian, then took my wife by the elbow. "Say thank you to the nice man," I instructed her, and she played along with us.

"Thank you, Cristian."

The attorney smiled as he was taking the money. "You two run along now, I'll have the receipt when you come back."

"Come on, Mrs. Maverick, before you starve to death." I offered Doralice my arm and she took it, and we headed for the front doors. Five minutes later we were seated at Sawyer's and ready to order lunch. It was noisy inside the café, and we heard nothing but talking and laughing from the customers. When we were done I paid for lunch and we headed back toward Maude's. That's when we realized something was wrong; there was no one on the street and it was deathly still outside.

I hurried us back to the saloon and left Doralice in my office, then went up to the bar to see what Willie could tell me. "Somethin' happened down at the bank," were the first words out of his mouth, and I went runnin' for the batwing doors just as Deputy Jerry Samuels came in.

"What happened, Jerry?"

"Bart, could you come with me please?" Jerry Samuels is just about as friendly and easy to get along with as Sheriff Dave Parker. Right this minute he was as stiff and formal as I've ever seen him.

I followed Jerry out the door; we only walked down the boardwalk about ten or fifteen feet before he stopped and turned back to face me. "Bart . . . it's Cristian. He's dead."

What? Cristian dead? No, that couldn't be; Jerry must have gotten it wrong. We'd just seen Cristian . . . right before lunch. He'd taken the saloon's deposit to the bank, so that I could have lunch with my wife. "What happened, Jerry?" I asked for the second time.

"It's not real clear. Looks like somebody walked into the bank and pulled a gun . . . told the people in line to hand over their deposits . . . Cristian and Tony Burke rushed the robber and Cristian got shot. Tony knocked the gun away and caught the guy . . . but the attorney's dead. Can you come down there with me? And have you got any idea where Maude is?"

"She's at my house with the girls." My mind was flooded with one thought after another, but the predominant one was 'poor Maude.' Then there was the hollow place in the pit of my stomach for my own loss; Cristian was a good friend, and I'd miss him. By the time I got to the bank with Jerry, the numbness had set in. And that wasn't all; guilt swiftly followed it. A good man might not be dead if I hadn't made him wait for a deposit.

It was chaos inside the bank. Sheriff Parker was there, along with Doctor Simon Petry and Deputy Willie Benton. To say nothing of the bank president and staff, and the two bodies lying covered up on the floor. I went straight to Simon.

"Bart, I told Jerry to get you. I don't envy you the job you've got in front of you." Simon was referring to the two ladies in my life that I was going to have to notify – Doralice, my wife, and Maude, my mother-in-law and Cristian's wife. "Only one good thing about this whole mess. Cristian was dead as soon as the bullet hit him. He didn't suffer any."

"How's Tony?" I asked.

Tony Burke had taken over as the manager at the Little Bend Bar when Ray Ames finally retired. I hadn't grown up with him, the way I had Ray, but Tony was an honest fellow with a good sense of humor and was just as fond of the old saloon as Ray had been.

"Tony's alright. He took a bullet to the shoulder, but what he and Cristian did saved everybody here. And prevented the robbery. I'll get Dave to bring the bodies over to my office; Tony's already there waiting for me to patch his shoulder. Then I'll come up to your house to see if Maude needs anything. I'm real sorry this happened."

Simon wasn't the only one that was real sorry. What was Maude gonna do without her husband? They were so happy, and now Cristian was gone; and I couldn't help wondering what part I'd played in his demise. If I hadn't delayed him with my unfinished deposit . . . if I'd gone instead of him . . . it was too late to think about that now. If I'd gone to the bank I could be the one that was dead . . . or not. Would I have tried to jump the bank robber, the way Cristian did? Maybe. Maybe not. I couldn't be sure one way or the other. I just knew that right now I had to go back to the saloon and deal with the aftermath of Cristian's death. And then, God forbid, I had to tell Maude.


	3. I Can Be Your Hero

Chapter 2 – I Can Be Your Hero

I took my time getting back to the saloon; I was in no hurry to face what lay in front of me. Willie was behind the bar, as usual, and he had Doralice with him. We exchanged looks and I didn't have to explain anything further – he knew there was bad news coming.

"What was that all about? And where's Cristian?" my beautiful wife asked.

"Come on back to the office and I'll tell you everything," was my way of stalling for time. She sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk; I took the other one. Before I could get started a look of recognition flashed across her eyes.

"Bart . . . is Cristian alright?" We'd been together long enough that she knew; she let out a strangled gasp and a tear slid down her cheek. "Oh, no!"

I reached over and wiped the tear from her face, then folded her into my arms. I could feel her body shake as she was wracked by sobs, but she never made a sound. I held her close until the shaking slowed, then stopped altogether, and she slowly pulled away from my embrace. "What happened?"

I related to her the story Simon told me, and she sat and watched me without saying a word. When I'd finished she reached over and grabbed my hand. "It's not your fault," she insisted.

"Things might have been different if he'd been there sooner."

"And they might not have. You can't blame yourself because Cristian tried to prevent a hold-up."

I shook my head. "All I know is Cristian might be alive if he hadn't waited for my deposit to be done."

Without letting go of my hand, she reminded me what was coming next. "Maude. We have to go tell Maude."

I let out a breath, grateful that I wouldn't be alone. "Are you alright to do this?"

Doralice nodded then, and I saw the part of her that was Maude rise up and take charge. "Come on, before she hears it from someone else."

I always thought it was nice to live so close to the saloon, but that day the walk was as far as it had ever been. When we got to the door of the house we could hear shrieks of laughter inside, and there were small female bodies running everywhere, finally followed by a larger and more elegant body. Maude stopped abruptly when she saw us and stared for a few seconds. "What are you two doing home at this time of day?" she asked with a laugh. When neither of us answered her, her expression changed into something that was painful, and frightened.

"Maude," I started, but before I could go any further she put her fingers to my lips, to silence me.

"Is he dead?" she questioned in a soft, quavering voice.

"Yes," Doralice answered. "Yes, mother, Cristian is gone."

Maude's eyes closed then, and her body wavered for a few seconds before collapsing. I reached out quickly and caught her on the way down, gently picking her up and heading for the settee in the living room. Doralice rounded up the twins and sent them to play in their room, then stopped in the kitchen and brought back a glass and the brandy bottle. Between the two of us we got two or three swallows of the stuff down Maude's throat before she started to come around. Her eyelids finally fluttered and opened, and there were big tears standing in her eyes. "Is it true?" she croaked out. "What happened? A heart attack?"

Maude sat up slowly and I filled the brandy glass and handed it to her. She drank half of it and seemed steadier, still expecting me to give her an answer. She grasped my right hand in hers and waited.

"He was in the bank," I told her, "and some yahoo tried to rob it. Him and Tony Burke jumped the guy; the robber's dead. Tony was shot in the shoulder."

"And . . . Cristian?"

"He saved everybody's life . . . and he stopped the robbery."

"And . . . ?" Maude persisted.

"He was shot. Simon said he died instantly." It hadn't comforted me any, and I don't think it comforted Maude. She finally smiled and finished off the brandy.

"He died a hero."

I nodded, agreeing with her. He was a hero – I just didn't want him to be a dead hero. It didn't seem like there was much I could do about it, though. Before my thoughts could go any further, there was a knock on the door – that must be Simon. I got up and handed the brandy bottle to Doralice. She watched me and I explained to her, "Simon. He said he'd stop by to check on Maude."

I was right; it was the doctor. "How is she?"

"Better than I expected. Come in and take a look. I think she's in shock."

Simon went straight to Maude and kneeled next to the settee. "Maude, its Simon. Can I get you anything? How about a sedative? Something to help you rest?"

"No, no, Simon, I've got too much to do. I have to make arrangements with Mr. Gardner. I want Cristian laid to rest in that little corner spot up on the hill . . . where he can see everything. I need to know that's taken care of . . . "

Ezekial Gardner is the undertaker in Little Bend. I reached out and took Maude's hand again, wanting to spare her any pain I could. "Maude, why don't you let Simon give you something to sleep. I can go see Mr. Gardner for you. That way you can get some rest and everything will be taken care of . . . "

"You're sweet, handsome, but I have to do this myself." She withdrew her hand from mine and sat perfectly still, waiting to see what came next. Simon made a suggestion.

"You don't have to do anything right now, Maude. Mr. Gardner knows you'll be by to take care of everything when you can. He'll wait until he hears from you. How about it? Some rest would do you a world of good."

Maude wavered. I could see the tiredness in her eyes. It was obvious she needed to lie down, at least for a little while. And yet she fought it, and shook off the suggestion like water off a duck's back. "No, Simon. I need to take care of it. Cristian is . . . was my husband, and it's up to me . . . please, understand. Doralice, will you come with me to Mr. Gardner's?"

We looked at each other and Doralice nodded. "Yes, mother, I'll go with you. Bart, wait until I come back and we'll tell the girls."

"Do you think . . . "

"Yes, we need to explain what happened. Simon, thank you for coming by. We'll talk later." Doralice stood and held out her hand, which Maude took and followed her daughter. In just a minute they were gone.

"That's not what I expected," I told Simon.

"Me either. Maybe she'll need me later." He shook his head and stood up. "I have to go back to the office. I have work to do. You know where I'll be."

"Thanks, Simon. I'll come down later." I followed him to the door and closed it behind him. I heard another door open; it was the twins bedroom door. Maudie's head was sticking out.

"Papa, where's Grandma? She promised to come back an play . . . where did she go?"

As I headed to their room, Belle joined her sister in the doorway. "Yes. Grandma. Where she go?"

"Well, girls, something came up that Grandma had to take care of. She'll come back, just like she said she would."

"When?" Maudie asked again.

"As soon as she can, sweetie," I explained. I was hoping to get away without answering any more questions and, as luck would have it, Maria Elena returned from her shopping trip to the Emporium. By the time I helped her with the bags of groceries and we'd distracted the twins with a beautiful, juicy apple each, Doralice and Maude had returned. Maude appeared to be on the verge of collapse and Doralice took her straight to the guest room to lie down. Explanations of the afternoon's events was going to have to wait until later.


	4. Fate and Circumstance

Chapter 3 – Fate and Circumstance

Sometime later that afternoon I walked over to the sheriff's office. Maude was sleeping, as were the twins, and Beauregard was out at Uncle Ben's visiting his namesake. Doralice was awake but resting, and that left Maria Elena to watch over my house full of emotionally battered women.

Parker looked up when the door opened but never acknowledged my entrance. Both deputies were here, as was Ezekiel Gardner. Everyone looked miserable, and I assumed I fit right in with them. "Why'd they have to do that?" Parker asked. "It cost this town a good attorney and a great friend. And that's not countin' what Maude lost. Now Doc says Tony could lose the use of the arm, on top of everything else."

"When did you hear that?" I asked.

"About five minutes ago," came Dave's reply. "Simon stopped by to tell us the bullet did more damage than he originally thought. Burke's gonna live, but that arm is all tore up." He turned to me. "How's Maude doin'?"

"Not good," I reported. "How was she when she was at your place, Ezekiel?"

"Confused. Tired. Had one thing stuck in her mind and couldn't think of nothin' else. Looked like she'd never get over what happened today. Is she still at your place?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Been sleepin' since she came back. It's just miserable over there now, and we haven't even told the twins yet. I don't know how we're gonna do that. They were awful fond of their Grandpa Cristian."

"Went through the 'Wanted'posters and found our bank robber – Jessie Browning. Wanted for three other jobs – there's a five hundred dollar reward on him. We'll split it fifty-fifty between Cristian and Tony." Parker passed the wanted poster around, and everyone got a good look at it.

"Maude won't take it. She'll tell you to give it to Tony." I knew my mother-in-law well enough to know that.

"I'm sure you're right – but I'm gonna make the offer anyway," Dave explained. "The decision is Maude's."

"Do you need anything from me or Maude?" I asked.

"Yeah. We need you to identify and sign for the deposit. Five hundred eighty five dollars according to the deposit slip. Sign the release and you can have the receipt." Jerry Samuels handed me a pen and the release, and I signed. I put the receipt in my wallet and went back over to the saloon.

Willie had draped the bar area in black crepe and Maude's looked like it was in mourning. "Alright with you?" he asked as I walked by.

"Fine."

I sat in my office for more than an hour and thought about the events of the day. All I kept remembering was not having the saloon deposit ready and forcing Cristian to wait for me to finish it. How much of a time difference had that made? That was the question I couldn't answer.

I couldn't sit at my desk any longer and I wandered out onto the floor. The only two people in the entire bar were Willie and me. We stared at each other for a minute or more before Willie finally said, "Word gets around fast, boss." If this is what we had to look forward to, I had a quick solution. Close the saloon.

Five minutes later we did just that. I locked all the doors while Willie made up a sign that read _'Saloon closed due to death in family_.' I locked the front doors as we left and posted the sign there. "Tomorrow morning, boss?"

"Yeah, we'll give it a try, Willie. It'll be up to Maude."

I headed home once again. It was time to sit down with the twins.

XXXXXXXX

Getting them to sit still might be a problem, of course. As I found out when I tried to herd them into the bedroom. After ten or more minutes of chasing them around I had to call Doralice in to help. Just like everything else that a mother is good at, she was able to get them in to bed and settled down in no time at all. I'd probably still be chasing them around the room.

"Maudie, Belle, we need to tell you something. It's about your Grandpa Cristian." Two little faces stared up at me with such expectations that I had to turn away. That's when their mother stepped in.

"Girls, a bad man tried to rob the bank today and Grandpa Cristian and another man stopped him. He was a hero, and the bad man didn't get away with anything from the customers or the bank. But here's the problem. The bad man shot Grandpa Cristian, and he died."

"What happened to the bad man?" Maudie asked quietly. "Can he come get us?"

"No, honey," I was finally able to tell her. "The bad man is dead. He can't get anybody."

"Grampa," Belle whimpered and began to cry. I picked her up and held her the way I had when she was a baby, and in a few short minutes the crying had all but stopped.

"Grandpa will watch over you from heaven," Doralice continued, and that seemed to satisfy both of our girls. They were quiet now and slowly drifted off to sleep, and me and Doralice left their bedroom without waking them.

There was no respite, however, as we found Maude awake and sitting at the kitchen table. She had a full glass of brandy in her hands. "It was Belle that was crying, wasn't it?"

"Yes, mama, it was Belle."

"She seemed to have a soft spot for Cristian. Those two always had their heads together about one thing or another."

Doralice made a fresh pot of coffee and we sat down at the table. "Bart, tell me what happened today. All of it."

I explained everything that happened, from Doralice standing in my office trying to bribe me into taking her to lunch, to the moment I walked into the bank and saw the two bodies covered with sheets. Maude sat and listened, never asking a question, never saying a word, sipping on the brandy the whole time, until the glass was empty and she'd poured another. Finally she turned to me and questioned, "He said he had some business down at the bank? But he had to wait for you to finish your deposit, right? How long did that take you? And then he left, and the two of you went to Sawyer's for lunch?"

I answered all of Maude's questions and then sat in the kitchen and drank coffee until she had nothing more to ask me. The part that disturbed me most was Maude's return, time and time again, to Cristian being delayed because the deposit wasn't completed at that exact moment. It was apparent after a while that she believed there was a connection between Cristian's being delayed at the saloon and his being shot. After a while I believed it, too.

We sat in breathless silence for a while, until Maude asked, "I don't want to be in that house by myself tonight. Can I stay here?"

"Of course," I answered, at the same time Doralice nodded.

"Good, then I'm going to bed," she announced, and I looked at my wife.

"I think that's an excellent idea," Doralice proclaimed. "Don't you, Bart?"

"Huh? Oh, yes, I do, too." I followed blue-eyes to the bedroom and changed into a night shirt, then crawled into bed and waited for her to join me. By the time she did I was shaking, and no amount of blankets or cuddling was gonna warm me up. I was convinced that Cristian's death was my fault; that if I hadn't delayed his arrival at the bank he would have been long gone by the time Jessie Browning decided to rob the place. Cristian de la Torres would still be alive, and Maude wouldn't be a widow.


	5. The Path of the Storm

Chapter 4 – The Path of the Storm

The next morning some things seemed perfectly normal; others were definitely not right. First of all, Maude was still here, and she looked dazed and confused. She kept up a constant stream of muttering under her breath and you really couldn't understand what she was muttering about. It was never loud enough or distinguished enough to be able to hear exactly what it was.

Then there were the girls. Poor little Belle asked about Grampa Cristian two or three times an hour and seemed to have trouble grasping the concept of _'dead.'_ Maudie had no trouble understanding that it meant gone for good, and the only proper thing to do was find someone new to play with. Easier said than done.

Next came Doralice. Cristian had been a confidant to his step-daughter, an outsider who could keep the complexities of a blended family balanced. She was going to miss his wise counsel, the voice of reason in the chaos of her life.

And lastly there was – me. We weren't as close as we might have been . . . neither one of us had enough time for that. Yet I called Cristian friend, and when I had a problem and Brother Bret wasn't available, I'd just as likely go discuss it with the town's best attorney. Cristian was loyal, trustworthy and discreet. And he had a keen mind. That's what I would miss, perhaps most of all.

Cristian was to be buried tomorrow, and Maude intended to keep the saloon closed. I dressed and went down to Maude's, where I met Willie and told him about the plans. Funeral was at two o'clock, and we put up a sign informing everyone that there was a private wake after the burial back at Maude's, by invitation only. I then spent the next hour or so inviting the de la Torre friends to the saloon after the ceremony. Everyone I spoke to insisted they would be at the wake.

That left me with one more unpleasant task. I had to ride out to Uncle Ben's house and tell the household what had happened, and bring my two year-old son home. I didn't expect the kind of reaction from Beauregard that I'd gotten from the twins; they were four and he was only two. I did expect a reaction from Pappy and Ben.

The two Beauregard's were out in the barn, communing with the livestock. I explained the course of events to Ben and Lily Mae and both were saddened to hear of the outcome. They assured me they'd be at the service. Big Beau and Little Beau came in for lunch, and while Lily Mae fed the small one I explained to the large one what occurred a mere twenty-four hours ago. Pappy just shook his head. "What's Maude gonna do now?" he asked.

"I don't know, Pa. For right now she's stayin' with us, she don't wanna go back to her house and be alone. Can you lend me a hand with Beauregard? I have no idea how he's gonna take it." We sat at the kitchen table with my boy, me on one side and Pappy on the other, and waited until he was finished with lunch.

"Beauregard, Poppa has some sad news. Grandpa Cristian got hurt yesterday. A bad man wanted to rob the bank and Grandpa stopped him."

"Grampa alright?" came the innocent question.

"No, Beauregard, Grandpa was shot by the bank robber. He was hurt pretty bad."

My little boy looked up at me with those black, black eyes, just like his Uncle Bret's, and for the first time I saw fear there. He looked frantically from my face to Pappy's before settling on his grandfather.

"Pawpaw?" There was a tremor in his voice that I'd never heard before. He scrambled from his chair into Pappy's lap and clung to his namesake. "Grampa . . . Cristian?"

"I'm sorry, sweet boy, Grandpa Cristian is . . . gone. He's in heaven with your Grandma Isabelle."

Beauregard sat in Pappy's lap for four or five minutes in silence. Then, without warning, he maneuvered himself from Pappy's lap to mine and wrapped his arms around my neck, looking straight into my eyes. "Gramma?" he queried tearfully.

"Grandma Maude is fine, son. She's at our house and you'll see her as soon as we get home."

Beauregard let out a breath as a single tear slid down his cheek. I reached up and wiped it away with my thumb. "You promise?"

"I promise." That seemed to be good enough for him, at least now, and he sat in my lap quietly until we were ready to go. I carried him to the buggy but before letting me put him on the seat, he leaned over for a kiss from pawpaw.

"No banks," he told his grandfather solemnly.

"No banks," Pappy agreed, and leaned over to kiss my little man on the forehead.

"Love you, Pawpaw."

"I love you too, little boy." They waved at each other until we were out of sight.

XXXXXXXX

Beauregard was asleep by the time we got home, and I carried him into his bedroom and laid him gently on the bed. Doralice was there to undress him, and she asked how he'd taken the news.

"Better than I thought he would," I told her, and then explained what happened. When I got to the 'no banks' part she smothered a laugh.

"That sounds just like him. I'm surprised he didn't tell you the same thing."

"I think grandpa's were on his mind. He'll get around to me." I tucked him in and kissed him goodnight, then we went out to the living room and closed the door behind us. Maude was sitting in the kitchen drinking coffee.

"How is he?"

"Not bad. He was upset, wanted to see you when we got home, but he fell asleep."

"I'll see him in the morning. Doralice, will you take me to the house tomorrow? I need to get cleaned up and pick out a dress."

Something about the way Maude was acting bothered me. She was too calm, too controlled. I kept waiting for her to fall apart; just go to pieces, and so far she hadn't. The only thing odd she'd done was the constant muttering that we heard from her the morning after. I know that Maude was tough; she'd been through enough in her life that would have knocked other people down and run over them. But there was just something not right about her reactions to everything that had happened since the shooting. I was walking around waiting for the other shoe to drop; little did I know that when it did, it would threaten to destroy everything in its path. Me included.


	6. Only the Beginning

Chapter 5 – Only the Beginning

"Where's Gramma?" were the first words out of Beau's mouth when he woke up.

"She went back to her house for a while. Your momma's with her."

"Sisters?"

"The same place you are, lazy bones. Still in bed."

"Poppa?"

"What, son?" He'd made no move to get out of bed, but at least his eyes were open and he was talking. The girls were still sound asleep in their bedroom.

"You go to bank?" Well, Doralice was right about that one. Banks were still on his mind, and now it was my turn.

"Yes, Beau, you know I do."

"Please be careful. Can't lose you, only got one Poppa."

"How about you get up and get dressed and I'll go make breakfast?"

He sat up in bed, eager as could be. Yeah, this one had the Maverick appetite. "Wake sisters up, too?"

I nodded. "Yes, I'll wake your sisters up, too. You can help them gather eggs." He'd been trying to learn from Maudie and Belle which eggs we ate for breakfast and which eggs we left for later.

"Okay," and he began to climb out of bed.

By the time I got to the girl's room I knew I didn't have to wake them. They were laughing and giggling and doing their best to help each other get dressed. Or undressed; I wasn't sure which. "I need some help this morning, girls. Take your brother outside with you and show him which eggs to bring in."

They actually stopped and finished getting presentable. Within minutes the two of them were outside teaching Beauregard the finer points of egg gathering, and just a few minutes after that the four of us were sitting at the kitchen table eating some of those very eggs. Maria Elena had arrived, and I sent her off to occupy the little ones while I did the dishes.

The day seemed like any other day until Maude and Doralice came home. They were arguing, which they never did. I did my best to ignore whatever they were arguing about and managed to do so until Maude went into the spare room and slammed the door; in just a minute Doralice was in our bedroom wanting to talk to me, and she wasn't happy. "Maude's picked the wrong dress to wear today, Bart. If she wears that she'll look like . . . well, she'll look like his mistress instead of his wife."

"Honey, she was his wife. She can wear anything that makes her happy."

"Yes, but . . . "

I interrupted her. "No buts today. Cristian was her husband, and he's the one we're burying. Anything she wants to wear, Doralice."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

I have no idea what my wife thought was wrong with the dress that Maude had picked out. True, it was a little low-cut for a burial – but I also know it was one of Cristian's favorite dresses. When it was time to go to the chapel Maude put on a shawl and the three of us walked there. The little ones stayed home with Maria Elena. Right after the chapel, at two o'clock precisely, everyone proceeded to the cemetery, where there was a brief service. I knew that Cristian was well-liked, but I was really pleased for Maude's sake – there must have been close to one hundred people at the cemetery.

From there the crowd proceeded to Maude's, which was opened for the wake. There were almost as many people at Maude's as there had been at the cemetery, Pappy, Uncle Ben and Lily Mae included. I did everything I could to keep things running smoothly; I wanted this to be as easy on Maude as possible. The lady herself talked to almost everyone there, including Willie, the sheriff and both deputies, everybody that had been at the bank that day, anyone that could give her any insight on what had happened and, just about last, me. She was in a good state of mind, considering what had actually occurred, but the longer she spoke to people the more upset she seemed to get. By the time I got to sit down with her for a few minutes, she was almost livid.

"Bart, how long did it take you to finish that bank deposit?" she questioned me.

"No more than five minutes, Maude."

"Why didn't you tell Cristian the deposit wasn't done?"

Who had she been talking to, and why was she suddenly so hostile? I'd already been feeling guilty enough about the few minutes that he'd had to wait for me, and wondered if I was to blame for his death. If he'd gotten there and gotten his business taken care of, maybe he'd have already been on his way back to the saloon. Maybe he wouldn't have tried to jump the outlaw and stop the robbery. And maybe he would have done the exact same things and still gotten killed. "I did tell him, Maude. He didn't seem to have a problem with it."

She stared at me in a way I'd never seen before. In all the time I'd known her, I can't ever remember Maude being angry or upset with me . . . but she sure looked that way now. "Of course he wouldn't. But if he'd been there earlier . . . your delay might have gotten him killed."

I didn't know how to respond. Maude had just put into words exactly what I'd been thinking . . . and it felt just like somebody had sucker-punched me. Was she right? That was the hell of it all . . . there was no way of knowing if she was or not.

She sat there for two or three minutes, and I waited to see if there was something else. Nothing else followed, and eventually she got up and walked away. I watched her weave her way through the crowd until she found Sheriff Parker, and they became embroiled in a lengthy conversation. Not sure exactly what she asked him, but he spent a few minutes vehemently shaking his head 'No.' Once or twice he looked my way, and I wondered if she was discussing my culpability in the whole matter.

Finally about six o'clock, Doralice came lookin' for me. "I'm gonna take Maude home," she told me, "and put her to bed. She looks absolutely exhausted." She paused just a moment to look at me. "You don't look so good, yourself. Somethin' wrong?"

"I'll tell you when I get home. I'm gonna close this thing down and lock up the saloon. I shouldn't be too long."

There weren't many people left and it didn't take much to do just that. I told Willie we'd re-open tomorrow at the usual time and locked everything up before leaving for home. I walked up the boardwalk and kept turning Maude's accusations over in my mind. About halfway there Parker came running across the street and stopped me.

"I thought you oughta know. Maude's tryin' to blame you for Cristian's death."

"I got that feeling from her already."

"She wanted to know if there was any way I could arrest you as an accessory to murder."

"WHAT?"

"Bart, she's not in her right mind. Wanted me to find out if you knew Jessie Browning."

"The bank robber?"

"The same. Thought maybe you were in on the robbery, somehow."

"Dave, do you . . . "

"Not for a second, Bart. I've known you too long. Maude's lost all sense of reasoning. She'll settle down and start thinkin' straight here in a little while. But I wanted you to know, so you could keep your eyes open. If you know she's not right in the head, maybe you can prevent it from goin' any further. No tellin' what she's liable to do."

"Yeah, Dave, thanks. I'll see if I can talk to her. She's got to know . . . that I had nothin' to do with it."

He slapped me on the shoulder and ran back to the jail. I started walking again, wondering what in the world I could do to alleviate Maude's fears. Little did I know it would get worse before it got better.


	7. Absolute Darkness

Chapter 6 – Absolute Darkness

"Supper's ready."

I'm sure whatever Doralice had fixed was good . . . I was just in no mood to eat. "I'm not very hungry, darlin'. Is Maude still here?" I asked instead.

"She's asleep. Are you gonna tell me why you looked so bad earlier?"

"It's your mother. She wants Dave Parker to arrest me for murder. Thinks that I was involved in the holdup at the bank and that I got Cristian Killed."

"Noooooo. Where did she get that idea?"

"I'm not sure, blue-eyes, but she's serious about it. She started by accusing me of delaying the deposit so that Cristian was late getting to the bank. Figures he would have been and gone if not for that. I would never have . . . he was my friend, Doralice. I sure never would have done anything to harm him. I've gotta talk to her."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed my cheek. "Let her sleep for a while. We'll talk to her when she wakes up. I'm sure she's just exhausted and confused."

Maude wasn't the only one. We sat down in the front room to talk, and before I knew it, I'd fallen asleep. When I woke, the sun was shining and the birds chirping. No one was in sight, but my boots were off, and I was covered with a blanket. The only sound that could be heard was Lucy's gentle purring. I sat up, stretched, and slipped the boots back on, then headed for the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee. As I walked past the spare room, I saw that it was empty. Maude was gone.

XXXXXXXX

"What time did I fall asleep?" I asked my wife, once the twins had been fed and were happily playing in their room. Beauregard had gotten up, eaten breakfast, and gone back to bed. I wasn't going to argue with him, he was two years old.

"Well, let's see. We sat down about eleven o'clock. You must have fallen asleep about five minutes after eleven."

"That long, huh?"

"I'd say so." She giggled, and it was a welcome sound; one I hadn't heard in a long time. Now, on to more serious matters.

"Any idea when Maude left?"

Doralice shook her head. "It couldn't have been that long ago. I thought I heard her leave but I can't be sure. Let's go see her when Maria Elena gets here."

"Good. That gives me time to get cleaned up and shaved." And it did. By the time Maria Elena arrived, we were both ready to go see the new widow and try to get this all straightened out.

We walked over to Maude's house hand in hand, and it was the first time I'd felt human in days. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. So I knocked again, and I knew she was there – I could see the curtains move inside the window. "Momma, it's your daughter. Open the door and let us in. We need to talk."

Maude came to the door, reluctantly, and kept us standing on the porch. "What do you want?"

"We want to talk to you, Momma. Can we come in?"

Maude glared at me as if she'd never seen me before. "Why did you bring him?"

"Bart is my husband, Momma, and the father of your grandchildren. We've been married for years. He was a good friend to Cristian. We need to come in and talk to you."

Maude finally stepped aside and held the door open. Doralice entered and I followed, and I trailed down the hall after the two of them. After we were seated, Maude moved to a chair on the far side of the room and resumed the glare she'd directed at me. "What do you want?"

"Maude, why do you think I tried to hurt Cristian? I was his best man when he married you."

"No, no that wasn't you . . . it was . . . it was Beauregard. That's right, Beauregard. You got him killed. My poor Cristian. . . why? Why did you do it?"

"Maude, I didn't . . ." I made the mistake of reaching for her hand, trying to offer some comfort and solace for the pain in her eyes and her voice. She was having none of it, and pulled away from me, lunging to her feet and running from the room. I turned to my wife to confirm I'd done nothing wrong but she was already in full flight, following her mother down the hall. I started to get up from the chair I was seated in but Doralice hissed at me to sit still and stay put, and that's precisely what I did. She ran after her mother and caught up to her in the hall. I could hear the sound of their voices, but not what they were saying.

In a few minutes, Doralice returned to the room by herself. "She won't come back out."

"Did you find anything out from her?"

She shook her head. "Just that she believes it's your fault Cristian's dead. Not where she got it, or why she thinks that. And she wants us to leave. Now."

I was devastated. It was bad enough that I wondered if I could have prevented or changed the outcome if I hadn't delayed Cristian's arrival at the bank; for whatever reasons Maude thought something even worse. That I had a hand in directly causing his death.

Maude had been my protector, my friend, my biggest booster, all those years since I'd gone to Mexico and brought back Doralice. She treated me like her son, like I could do no wrong. She was always there, with a word of praise or friendship. To have her turn on me, like I'd had a hand in murdering her husband, was shattering.

Doralice reached down and slipped her hand into mine. "C'mon, handsome, it's time to go home." She led me up and away from there, my hand in hers, and back out into the daylight. It was going to be a while before I could face that absolute darkness again.


	8. Ridden Hard

Chapter 7 – Ridden Hard

I didn't go into the saloon that day; I couldn't stand to look at it. There wasn't anything there that couldn't wait another day or two to get done, and Willie and Billy Sunday were perfectly capable of running the place. I spent most of the day in the backyard with the twins, Lucy and the chickens. It was the only place there was any comfort for my soul . . . the only place there was no trace of anything Maude's . . . I played with my daughters, and the cat and the chickens, and swept every trace of the saloon and Maude's accusations out of my head. As I chased my daughters around the backyard, I remembered what was truth, and what was fiction, and I thought back to all those years ago when I'd brought Melody home, and by the time we went in for dinner I was almost exhausted. And I felt like Bart Maverick again.

I got up the next morning with every intention of going to work, but by the time I got cleaned and dressed, it was almost noon. I took my family to Sawyer's for lunch and they behaved quite admirably, especially for little ladies that had spent the last two days in the back yard with the chickens. I dropped them off at the house and continued down the street to Maude's. There was a brand new bartender pouring whiskey and Willie was walking the floor. As soon as he saw me he hurried over.

"Who's the new man, Willie?" I asked when he got there.

"Uh, boss, uh." Willie looked like he'd swallowed a toad.

"Well?"

"Maude's here. In your office. Her office. You gotta talk to her."

Willie was as nervous as could be. I walked back to my office and opened the door to find all of Maude's furnishings back inside the room, Maude included. She looked up immediately and pointed me to a chair. "Mr. Maverick. I've been expecting you. Have a seat."

' _Mr. Maverick?' What did that mean? Maude began talking then, saying something about the saloon and the way it had been run, and finally ending on a most disagreeable note._ "Considering the circumstances of the last few days, I find that I have no choice. As of right now, Mr. Maverick, you are hereby fired."

"What?" I wasn't sure I'd heard her right, and I needed to hear it again.

"You're fired, effective immediately. For right now, your personal belongings have been moved back to your old office. Please make arrangements to come pick them up. Good day, sir."

I sat there in stunned silence. My mother-in-law had just fired me. What in the world was happening?

XXXXXXXX

I sat there in a daze for a moment, then finally gathered my wits about me and got up. I never said a word; I was too dumbfounded to say anything. Finally I walked out of the office, the bar, the batwing doors that had been my life for years. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, my mind just kept saying over and over, _'Get out, get out.'_

I stumbled up the boardwalk, oblivious to everything around me. When I got to the house I went in the front door and crashed onto the settee. Doralice told me later that she called my name three times and got no answer from me. I simply didn't hear her.

Eventually I was aware of my wife sitting next to me, grasping my hand and asking what was wrong. I just stared at her until I could finally say the words. "Maude fired me."

"She what?"

"She fired me, Doralice. Your mother fired me."

"No. No, she couldn't do that. She wouldn't do that. You must have heard her wrong."

"I heard her, alright. She fired me. Had everything moved out of her office and into my old office, told me to come get my personal belongings. I can't . . . I just can't believe it. She was as cold as ice, Doralice. Called me Mr. Maverick. What are we gonna do? I'll have to go back to playin' poker, baby. I don't see any other way around it. What if she wants the house back? What do we do then?"

I must have looked as bad as I sounded, because as soon as I drew a breath I was wrapped in Doralice's arms. "It's gonna be alright, handsome. Don't worry about it." She ran her fingers through my hair and kissed my forehead, the way I would one of the girls. I felt like I was about five years old, but her attempts to comfort and reassure me did calm me down. I don't know how long we sat like that, but eventually I began to feel better. I must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing I remember I was stretched out on the settee with Belle in my arms, sound asleep.

"Doralice," I called softly. The little one in my arms never flinched.

"Right here," came my answer. "I had to get up. When I came back, Belle had crawled up next to you and fallen asleep. I didn't have the heart to wake her. How do you feel?"

"Like I was ridden hard and put away wet. Did all that really happen? Did Maude fire me?"

"That's what you told me."

Belle squirmed in my arms and I shook her gently. "Isabelle, time to wake up, darlin.' "

"Did you come home to play with us again, Daddy?"

We both sat up, and in a few minutes Belle and Maudie were out in the backyard. "Come over here and have some coffee," Doralice encouraged me, and I walked over to the kitchen table and sat, while my wife poured me a cup.

"What do I do now?"

She left the pot on the stove and joined me at the table. "She's not rational right now, Bart. I think you should give it a couple days, let her remember how hard it is to run that place, then go back and see her. If that doesn't work . . . " She laid her hand on mine. "We'll figure something out. She can't really believe you had anything to do with Cristian's death."

"I hope you're right, darlin.' I really don't wanna go back out on the road again."

And so we waited. And waited for Maude to come to her senses.


	9. The Plan

Chapter 8 – The Plan

I was lost. After all the years of working my tail off at Maude's, I didn't know what to do with myself. It never crossed my mind that I would become attached to the job at Maude's, and now that I didn't have it anymore I realized how much it meant to me. The first day or two was alright; I could sleep late in the morning and spend most of my day with the twins. By day three I was about ready to lose my mind. On day four I saddled up and rode out to see Pappy and Ben; they hadn't heard about Maude and her crazy notion regarding my involvement in Cristian's death, or her firing me.

"Bartley! What are you doin' here? I thought you switched to workin' days!" Trouble was comin', and its name was Beauregard Maverick.

"I did, Pa, but that was before Maude fired me."

I watched the bewilderment come over him . . . he knew how hard I worked for her. That saloon and all the people in it had come to mean a lot to me.

"Why . . . did she fire you?" We sat at the kitchen table and I told him the whole story. When I was finished, about all he could do was sit and shake his head. "Don't she see how wrong she is?

I shook my head. "No, Pappy, she doesn't see it. She's too torn up with misery and grief to understand that everybody else loved Cristian as much as she did, and she has to blame someone. So instead of being mad at Cristian, she's mad at me."

"What can I do to help, son?" There was no anger or hostility in his voice; he knew how bad Maude was hurtin'. And he could see what her pain was doing to cause my pain to escalate.

"I don't know, Pappy. Can you come into town and talk to her? I've tried gettin' through to her, and she just doesn't hear me. She keeps blamin' me for Cristian bein' in the bank and jumpin' Browning, tryin' to be the hero and stop the robbery. Says if I'd had the deposit ready then Cristian would have already been done with the bank. We gotta get this straightened out, Pa. I got no income, Maudie and Belle got no Grandma, and Doralice is caught in the middle. I'll do whatever I have to to make it right."

Pappy reached over and patted my arm. "Go saddle my horse, boy. I'll go back to town with you now."

"Get what you need to stay with us tonight. The girls miss their pawpaw, and you don't have to ride back in the dark by yourself."

Pappy nodded. "Good idea. We'll see if I can talk some sense into this woman."

Fifteen minutes later we were on our way. Pappy stopped at the saloon and I took our horses to the livery, then walked home. Doralice was making supper and I cautioned her about Pappy. She got a big grin on her face. "Good. The girls will be delighted. They miss Maude somethin' awful."

It was almost an hour later when Pappy came in the front door. "I was beginnin' to get worried about you," I told him. Before he could give me an answer of any kind, Maudie and Belle came running out of the bedroom.

"Pawpaw!"

"You come to stay with us?"

He scooped the two of them up, one in each arm, and took them over to the table. "We can talk after dinner," he told me, and he sat down between them. Dinner was subdued but pleasant, and I helped Doralice clean up while Pappy read the girls a story. One story led to two stories, and two stories led to three. Once they were finally asleep, he joined us in the front room for coffee. "Well?"

Pappy sighed, and I'm not sure I've ever seen him look quite so mournful. "She wouldn't listen to anything I had to say. She's got her mind made up that Cristian's being dead is your fault – although she seems to have discarded the idea that it was deliberate. But she blames you, and she doesn't want to be reminded of that every time she sees you. That's why she fired you.

"I know you won't believe me, but this is gonna take time, Bartley. She's gonna wear herself out workin' on the books all alone, and she'll realize how much she needs you. And she'll come to understand that the deposit not being ready had nothing to do with Cristian gettin' shot. But it ain't gonna happen overnight."

"So what do I do in the meantime? Wait for Maude to break?"

Pappy looked at me and shook his head. "Patience ain't one of your virtues, is it, boy? Go play some poker. You can go to Claytonville, or there's a sweet little saloon just opened up in Asherville. Don't be in such a hurry. The woman is confused; it's gonna take her a while to get her head back on straight. And stay away from her. She'll be after you soon enough to come back to work for her. You mark my words."

While I chewed on that advice, he had a few words for Doralice. "Go down to see her during the day. Make sure she knows how much the girls miss her, but don't take 'em to the saloon. Wear the same clothes when you go see her. Tell her how hard it is on you with Bart having to play poker out of town; how much the girls miss him. Play on her sympathy, but don't complain.

"In the meantime, I'll try to stop by and remind her of all the things she's missing by havin' to be at work. It ain't gonna happen overnight, but I believe she'll come to her senses eventually."

Everything Pappy said made sense – including the fact that I had no patience. But it was hard to be patient and wait for Maude's common sense and faith in the truth to return. And it wasn't going to be easy.

The next morning Pappy was already up and gone by the time I woke. He'd arranged an early breakfast with Maude; early enough to make her wish she was still in bed, and to be back at our house and have a second breakfast with the twins. "How'd it go?" I asked when he got back to our place.

"Pretty good. She complained about having to get up so early for breakfast until I reminded her she had to be at the saloon for the liquor delivery. She grumbled but got the message. You got plans for today?"

"Me? No, sure don't."

"Good. I want you to ride to Claytonville with me. We can play some poker and have a late lunch over there. There's two or three people I want to get the word to that you're not workin' for Maude anymore. We'll see how she reacts when she finds out she could lose you permanently."

I didn't want to go to Claytonville and play poker, but I wasn't gonna refuse Pappy after I'd practically begged for his help. I turned to Doralice for her opinion on the plan. "I think Beauregard is right. That's the best way to open Maude's eyes to what she's actually done. I don't think it will take her long to come around."

"I hope you two are right. The sooner this happens, the better." I turned around and headed for the bedroom door. "Alright, let me change clothes. Give me five minutes, Pappy."

And a little more than five minutes later, me and Pappy were headed for the livery, and then Claytonville. I was hopin' that everything was gonna work out just the way Pappy expected it to. Because as much as I loved the game of poker, I'd gotten used to sleepin' in my own bed with my wife every night. And I wanted it to stay that way.


	10. Murmurs in the Dark

Chapter 9 – Murmurs in the Dark

Doralice and me had quite a discussion about Pappy's 'plan' while I changed clothes, and we decided to abide by it, inasmuch as we could. Pappy had known Maude on a different level than I did, and I thought he probably had a better insight into that part of her heart. At least I hoped he did, because without his ideas on how to behave, I had nothing. This was not a woman that you fooled or conned in any but the most subtle way.

It had just been a couple weeks since I'd sat down to play poker, but it took a few hands for me to get comfortable. The Providence Club had been sold and refurbished, although not renamed, and it really was a beautiful establishment. Not as big as Maude's, it still had a good feel to it, and after a while I settled in. It was about 2 o'clock when Pappy came and got me for lunch, and he had a gentleman with him I hadn't met before. "Bartley, this is General William Everdine. He's the Property Manager here at the Providence. Bill, this is my youngest son, Bartley. The one I was telling you about."

We shook hands and took measure of each other. General Everdine was in his sixties, tall and distinguished looking, with almost white hair and an impressive mustache. He had a ready smile and sparkling blue eyes, and a firm handshake. "Glad I get to meet you at last, Bartley. Beau's told me a lot about you. Damn shame what Maude did to you, but that might be a blessing for The Providence Club. Let's have some lunch, shall we?"

When the club was remodeled, the new owners had added a restaurant. That's where we went now, and continued our conversation. As soon as I got one thing straight. "Please call me Bart, General. Pappy seems to be the only one overly fond of Bartley."

"Perfectly fine with me, Bart, as long as you return the favor and call me Bill."

The food was actually quite good, and Bill Everdine was an interesting fellow. He reminded me a lot of my old friend Anderson Garrett, and it was a thought-provoking experience. Bill was looking for somebody to take over the day to day operations of the club, and do exactly what I'd been doing at Maude's. It didn't pay as well, or come with as much autonomy, but it seemed like it would be a pleasant enough place to be. Bill was going to be there for another two weeks and the job wouldn't start until he was ready to leave. There were distinct advantages to working for Bill Everdine – the position was Monday through Friday, and Bill was returning to Kansas City when he'd found the right man for the job.

Of course I was interested, as General Everdine appeared interested in me. Pappy seemed confident that Maude would eventually come to understand I had no effect on Cristian's death, but Pappy could afford to take a chance and wait it out. I couldn't. So the job that Bill Everdine had available was really tempting, and I told him I was interested.

Bill wanted me to come back in three days and give him my final answer. The job was mine if I wanted it. The question then became, did I want it?

Turns out Pappy wasn't finished. We left The Providence Club and went to a place I hadn't seen before – at least I hadn't seen it looking like this. It was a saloon, long since closed down, in desperate need of remodeling and repair. It was about half the size of Maude's, and it was begging to be gutted and started over.

It had potential . . . and a lot of headaches to go with the potential. As we walked through the old batwing doors, Pappy painted a picture of a brand new sign, one that spelled out 'Bart's.' It was gonna take a lot of hard work – but It'd be perfect for someone.

"Pa, it's a great idea, but I don't have the money to buy the building, much less get started," I told him as we walked among the dust inside.

"Don't you be worryin' none about that," Pappy answered me quickly. "I know the man that owns the building, and he'd sell it at a reasonable price. And as for fixin' it up – Pauly Wilcox would do most of the work, and even I can afford Pauly. Think about it. It'd give you a start . . . a start of your very own, not beholdin' to Maude or Bill or anybody else."

"But not in Little Bend."

Funny how life seems to come full circle. "Remember when you couldn't wait to get away from Little Bend? Now it's where you wanna be."

"You got anybody else you want me to meet while we're here?" I had the feeling Pappy had more cards up his sleeve than he was showing.

And indeed, he did. I wasn't aware that Pappy knew that many people in Claytonville, much less that many people that had a connection to a saloon. I couldn't begin to remember all the names or all the faces, and when Pappy was finally done, so was I.

We didn't do much talking until we were almost halfway home. Then Pappy finally asked, "Didn't know there were so many ways around this problem, did ya?"

I shook my head. "No, Pappy, I had no idea. Only problem is, there's only one place I wanna be, and it's not in Claytonville."

There was a rather large sigh that emanated from the man riding next to me. "I know that. I just figured we could give old Maudie somethin' to think about."

"And what if she doesn't take the bait?"

"Then I guess you're the one with somethin' to think about." We rode on for a while before he said, "One way or another, at least it solves your problem about money. Listen, why don't I stay one more night at your place and then we can ride over to Asherville tomorrow. You can see that brand new little saloon while Maude has to deal with the payroll."

"How do you know these things?"

"I been listenin' to the woman complain for years about everything she has to do and when it has to be done. And the parts of the job she always hated. "

"I didn't know you ever listened to what a woman had to say . . . unless it was momma."

That elicited a hearty laugh from Pappy. "I only listened to your momma half the time. I had a feelin' that what Maude was complainin' about was gonna be important someday. Let's ride past the back end of Maude's. I wanna see if the lights still on in her office."

Sure enough, it was. Pappy had called it right, Maude was burnin' the midnight oil tryin' to keep up with my workload. Once again I took the horses to the livery; this time Pappy went with me. There were no screams in the house when we got inside, the girls were in bed asleep and Doralice was sleeping on the settee. "Come on, baby, time to go to bed," I told her as I picked her up and carried her to our bedroom. I laid her on the bed and covered her with a blanket, kissed her goodnight and went back out into the kitchen. Pappy was sittin' at the table with Lucy in his lap, drinking coffee. "There's some stew here, Pappy. You want some?"

"No, Bartley, I'll pass. I'm just gonna finish this and go to bed. I'll see you in the mornin'." He gave Lucy's ears one more good scratch and put her down, then went straight to the guest room. I ate half a bowl of stew and drank some coffee while I pondered everything that had happened today. I wondered how Doralice's day had gone, and if she'd seen Maude. I guess I'd just have to wait until tomorrow to find out.

I was so tired that I took off my boots, grabbed another blanket, and lay down next to my wife. I heard her murmur, "You're still dressed."

"So are you," I murmured back. "I don't care if you don't care." She scooted as close to me as she could get.

"Now I don't care," she told me, and we fell asleep that way.


	11. Another Way

Chapter 10 – Another Way

Pappy knocked on the bedroom door for the third time. We were still giggling and laughing, all tangled up in blankets and discarded clothing, and I knew that Pappy was losing patience when I heard him say, "Bartley, cut that out now and get out here." Like I was five years old again.

I kissed that delicious ear one more time and then whispered in it, "I better get up before he spanks me."

"He spanked you?" Doralice asked incredulously.

"Only if he could catch me," I replied in all honesty. I turned my head towards the door. "I'll be out in a minute, Pappy." Still giggling, I heard the questions that put a cold chill in my heart and forced me into motion.

"Coffee, Pawpaw?"

"Please, Pawpaw?"

Just like that, I was up and halfway dressed. A sip or two of coffee was fine as far as I was concerned, but Pappy would have given them each a cup and let them pour. I was quick enough to get out to the kitchen and apprehend the small caffeine junkies before they turned into a mini-version of me.

"Well, that finally got you up," Pappy remarked just as I intercepted Maudie's coffee.

"We were up, Pappy. We were just a little busy."

"Hmpf. That can wait. You ever get to talk about yesterday?"

"Not very much," Doralice answered as she came out of the bedroom. "But I don't have much to tell. I had all of five minutes with Maude yesterday because she was too busy to talk. She was trying to figure out how you kept up with all the work you had to do. I told her you were good at your job."

I leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks, blue-eyes, I love you too."

"Are we all havin' breakfast?"

I looked at the three of them sitting at the table already, Maudie, Pappy, and Belle, and I gave her a firm answer. "Sure looks that way."

"Good, then you can help me with the bacon while I check the biscuits. And tell me all about your trip yesterday."

"You have no idea how many people Pappy knows that have some connection to one saloon or another." Then I gave her the rundown on everyone that I met or could remember – except The Providence Club and General Everdine.

"That sounds promising – especially 'Bart's.' Wouldn't you like to have your name on something?"

"If it could be in Little Bend . . . yes. That's the problem. None of them are in Little Bend."

Between Doralice and me we got breakfast on the table; I drank coffee and got cleaned up, then changed clothes. When I made my return to the kitchen Doralice looked disappointed. "You're leaving again? I miss you when you're gone."

"You've gotten spoiled, woman," I told her as I pulled her close to me and kissed her.

"Poppy, why do you kiss momma so much?" Maudie asked. Pappy did his best to suppress his laughter.

"To show her how much I love her."

"Can't you show her some other way?" she asked innocently.

"I could, but I don't think we should do that in front of other people."

Maudie gave me the strangest look, probably expecting a better explanation. She wasn't going to get one. "We're going to Asherville. We won't be as late as we were yesterday, I guarantee. Pappy doesn't know as many people in Asherville." I kissed Doralice again, stuck my tongue out at Maudie, and grabbed my coat and Pappy. Once more to the livery, and again we were off.

Pappy was right about the little saloon in Asherville, the Silver Dollar. It was the perfect size and was set up quite nicely, and even this early in the day it was doing good business. I watched a couple games before I sat in on one, and I was more than ready to go have lunch when Pappy came to get me. My poker skills weren't as sharp as yesterday, so I was happy as could be there was no extra guest on the lunch ride today. Me and Pappy talked about the pros and cons of working at The Providence Club, what it would take to refurbish and open 'Bart's', and what it would be like to go back out onto the road again. To be perfectly honest, none of those were appealing, but The Providence Club would provide immediate income, something I needed to feed and clothe my babies.

We rode back to Little Bend early and decided to stop at the LB Bar before returning home. It had taken quite a while to get used to Tony being behind the bar instead of Ray, and now Tony might lose the use of the arm he'd been shot in. Benny White himself was behind the bar and had coffee ready for Pappy and me when we walked in. "How's Tony doin'?" Pappy asked.

"Better than Doc thought at first," Benny seemed pleased to explain. "Looks like there's hope for a full recovery after all. I sure was glad to hear that."

"Yeah, I remember how long it took to find Tony," Pappy reminded all three of us. "Say, Benny, you heard anything from Maude?"

"Not from her directly, but I've heard enough from Willie Beacham. What she did to you was a cryin' shame, Bart, and now she's payin' for it."

"What's goin' on, Benny?" I didn't think there could be too many problems; I'd only been gone a week. Evidently I was wrong.

"Just about everything, accordin' to Willie. Maude can't keep up with anything; she had to ask everybody to wait for their paycheck, because she was too busy with the bills to get the checks done on time. She was on time with the liquor check, but made it out for the wrong amount. Two bartenders have quit, and the saloon girls are about to walk out and not come back. All Maude's done well so far is sit in her office and drink. Any chance of you goin' back and takin' over again?"

"Not right now, Benny. She fired me, I won't go back and beg for my job." Maybe that was foolish, but I'd manage somehow. Even if it meant taking the job in Claytonville.

Me and Pappy drank our coffee and talked about my course of action. I agreed that I'd wait until my three days were up with Bill Everdine, then if I hadn't heard from Maude, I'd accept his job offer. It wasn't ideal, and it really wasn't where I wanted to be, but it would take care of my family, and that was the most important thing.

"I appreciate what you did here, Pappy," I told him after I set my empty cup on the bar. "You showed me there was no need to panic, there were opportunities out there I didn't even know about. Thanks for your help."

"I'd like to go by and talk to Maude once more before I go home if you don't mind."

I shook my head. "No, Pappy, you said and done enough. Now it's up to Maude to figure out. Either way, we'll be fine."

We left the bar and mounted our horses; I went to the livery, Pappy headed for home. By the time I got to the house everybody but Maria Elena was napping, and I thought that seemed like a good idea. One more time I slipped off my boots and snuggled under the blanket with Doralice, and in less than five minutes my beautiful mommy-to-be and me were all wrapped up with each other, sound asleep.


	12. Three Days in Alaska

Chapter 11 – Three Days in Alaska

After supper we had story time, which delighted the girls no end. Ever since I'd had the time, I'd been reading them my favorite Dickens novel, _'David Copperfield_.' Doralice maintained the book was too old for them, and I have to admit I thought she was probably right, but I started reading it to them anyway and they seemed to be enjoying it. This was not a ' _get under the covers and don't fall asleep book.'_ We sat in the front room and I read them one chapter at a time. When the chapter was finished we talked about what I'd just read to them. They were just past three years old, and God love 'em, a lot brighter than their old man.

Once they were in bed asleep, I finally told Doralice about General Everdine and The Providence Club. She looked relieved, to know that I had a perfectly good job waiting for me if I decided to accept it, and I was uncertain as to why I hadn't told her yesterday. Then I filled her in on Benny White's information from today, and I watched the look of concern spread across her face. Not just for me, for her mother, too. "What are you gonna do?" she asked me.

"Wait and see what Maude does," I answered back.

"And if she doesn't do anything?"

"Then you're lookin' at the newest employee of The Providence Club. I can't work for Maude if she doesn't want me there, and I won't beg her for my job. The decision has to be hers."

There was no doubt that Doralice was worried about her mother, and what would happen to Maude's without me there. But we had two babies, with a third one on the way, and I had to worry about taking care of them. Besides, even if it wasn't me, Maude would eventually find somebody to take the position.

We went to bed and talked some more, and I did my best to make Doralice understand why I felt Maude had to make the overture about the job to me if I was gonna end up back at the saloon in Little Bend. For the first time in years, when we fell asleep it wasn't curled up in each other's arms. I wasn't mad or upset and I hoped she wasn't either; I just wasn't gonna crawl back . . . not to Maude or anybody.

Doralice was up before me the next morning, but everything between us seemed to be alright. The day passed, both of us keeping busy with little jobs and errands we'd been putting off. After their nap I took the girls out for a buggy ride, to get them out of the house and give Doralice some time to herself. I don't know if she went to see Maude or not; I didn't ask, and she didn't volunteer. It was a lovely fall day and we drove everywhere, eventually finding ourselves at the little graveyard up on the hill. We'd been here before . . . the twins knew this was where Grandma was laid to rest and where mommy and daddy had been married. It was quiet and restful, and they liked to visit with Grandma Isabelle. It provided a view of the whole valley that had served as comfort to me and my brother on many occasions; a place we could go when there was nowhere else. Pappy had been here recently – there were fresh flowers on momma's grave.

Maria Elena had left early but made us one of our favorite suppers, and we were all hungry when we got home. I was pleased to see Doralice consume a healthy amount of food for a change . . . it meant her stomach had stopped giving her so much trouble. I cleaned up afterward while all the girls went to look at Lucy's newest brood – five little kittens, all brown and white tabbies like their momma and the newest residents of one of the spare bedrooms. Before we knew it bedtime had arrived, and one of the three days I was willing to wait for Maude had passed.

The next day I went to visit Tony Burke and found that Benny's information about his arm had been reasonably accurate, for once. The injury, which had seemed 'arm threatening' for the first few days after the robbery, was coming along better than Doc Petry had expected. Tony was sorry about Cristian and even sorrier to hear of Maude's reaction to the whole incident.

"We both jumped for him at the same time. Cristian was just a little faster than me, and he took the first bullet. He knocked the robber's arm sideways, and that's why I caught the bullet where I did, instead of square in the chest. He saved my life, and probably everybody else's, too. Gave Jerry Samuels time to get in the door and get a shot off. I'm just sorry that Maude's forgotten why he went to the bank to begin with."

"Oh? Why was he there? He never did say." I really didn't know; Cristian had just told me he had some business there.

"He had to take care of a deed for Maude. Something about changing ownership of some property. Said she wanted it done right away. Bank President had just arrived for their meetin'."

The deed on some property. It made me stop and question – was she just now gettin' around to the ownership of our house? She told Doralice she'd had that changed over a long time ago. But if that was the reason that Cristian went to the bank . . . then it all made perfect sense. No wonder she blamed me for his death . . . she couldn't blame the person she really wanted to blame . . . Maude Donovan.

When I left Tony's I went to see Simon Petry. I had some questions I needed to ask Simon about Maude's state of mind and what affect facing the truth of Cristian's trip to the bank might have on her. I spent quite a while with Simon before heading home.

The girls were just waking up from their naps and were delighted that daddy was there to play with. Hide-and-go-seek, tag, everything they could think of. Even a modified version of bug. Doralice had been out running errands and daddy did his best to be an acceptable substitute. I thought it was about time that we had a nice, quiet dinner, just the two of us, and checked with Maria Elena. Staying longer and cooking dinner for the girls posed no problem, so when Doralice got home I proposed Mamacita's and received an enthusiastic "Yes!"

We hadn't been out, just the two of us, for quite a while, and it was another beautiful fall day. We decided to walk and set off down the street, in no hurry to get there. After we'd found a table and ordered, I told Doralice what Tony Burke had explained to me about the happenings that day in the bank. She didn't look particularly surprised.

"I've been trying to spend some time with Maude and get her to talk about Cristian's death . . . she finally admitted to me that it was her fault he was in the bank that day . . . that she'd never transferred the deed to the house over to us like she swore she had two years ago. She knew they were gonna go to Houston later this month and wanted Cristian to get it taken care of for her . . . so she had him go to the bank."

"And she blames me why?" I'd already figured this out, I just wanted to see if I was right.

"Because she has to blame somebody besides herself. And she's not ready to admit the truth just yet."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry she's hurtin', Doralice, and I understand about not wantin' to blame herself. But does she have any idea what she's done to our family? What she's done to me? She's got to let this go, or she's gonna lose us . . . forever. And she's got to forgive herself. It happened; there's nothin' she can do about it. Nothin'."

"I know that, handsome. She knows it, too; she knows you have a job offer in Claytonville. It's all up to her, now, to face the truth and get on with her life. I just don't know if she's strong enough to do that."

Dinner wasn't what I'd hoped it would be. We ate quietly, without much conversation; we'd given each other plenty to think about. Once back at home we had another chapter of _'David Copperfield_ ' for story time and eventually went to bed. While we were closer than last night as we fell asleep, there was still something between us that wasn't quite right. I was beginning to think it was Maude. The second of the days I was willing to wait for Maude had passed.


	13. The Cactus Parade

Chapter 12 – The Cactus Parade

I woke up earlier than anybody and got dressed as quietly as possible, then went out to the front porch and lit a cigar. This was the morning of day three, and I'd made up my mind that if I hadn't heard anything from Maude by noon, I would wire General Everdine and accept the position at The Providence Club. It wasn't fair to keep him dangling like this, waiting to see which way the wind blew me. It was obvious that Maude was still struggling with Cristian's death and might be for some time to come; money was gettin' in short supply around here and it was time I made some.

When I was finished smoking, I went inside and made coffee. By that time Doralice was up and in the kitchen. "What are your plans for today?" She didn't sound angry, but I could tell things still weren't quite right between us.

"I'm goin' out for a while, and then I'm goin' to see Maude."

"Do you want breakfast first?" she asked me.

"No."

While I waited for the coffee I went in and got cleaned up and shaved, then I got dressed as if I was goin' to work. When I came back out, she stared at me as if seeing me for the first time in days. "Dressed up, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Any particular reason why?"

"I'm goin' to see my girlfriend." I wasn't serious, of course, I just wanted the questions to stop.

"Oh." My smart remark had the desired effect; Doralice didn't say any more. I grabbed a cup of coffee and sat at the table, staring off into space. I knew exactly where I was going and what I was gonna do, I just needed some coffee in me before I left the house.

I got up from the table and put my empty cup in the wash basin. I was halfway to the door when Doralice called, "Bart, stop."

I did, and turned back to face her. "I love you," was all she said. It was enough.

"I love you, too."

XXXXXXXX

Of course, once I left the livery I headed straight for the Maverick cemetery on the hill. I needed to spend time with momma; to clear my head and make sure I knew what I wanted. I really wanted everything to return to the way it was before that day it all started, but I knew that wasn't possible. The rock-solid relationship I had with my mother-in-law had fallen apart, and I didn't know if it would ever be the same; the woman I adored was like a prickly cactus at the moment, and I was sitting on a hill pouring out my heart to a grave. Not an auspicious start to my day.

I sat there for almost two hours, wondering where it was all gonna end. Then I got up, brushed myself off, and decided to go make something happen.

I rode back into town and stopped in front of Maude's. This was not a fight I wanted or needed, but it was something that was necessary for survival. I walked through the batwing doors and the first face I saw was Willie's. He lit up with a big smile and rushed over to shake my hand. "Boy, am I glad to see you, boss. Ain't nothin' been right around here since you been gone. When are you comin' back?"

"Don't get your hopes up, Willie. I'm just here to talk to Maude."

"Oh, oh. Does she know you're comin' in?"

I shook my head. "Nope. Would you tell her I'd like to see her if she can spare the time."

"Yes, sir. I'll go tell her right now. Wait here just a minute." I'd never seen Willie move that fast before. He was in and out of Maude's office in less than two minutes, and came hurrying back to me. "You can go right on back, Bart. She's waitin' for you."

"Thanks, Willie." I strode purposely to my old office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Maude called out, and for just a moment it reminded me of the first time I'd gone to her office. That was when she wanted me to rescue Doralice from a Mexican prison. A lifetime ago. "Hello, Bart."

"Hello, Maude."

"I know why you're here."

"You do?" I asked her honestly.

"You're gonna take the job of General Manager at The Providence Club in Claytonville. Go to work for my biggest rival, aren't ya?" It wasn't lunchtime yet, and Maude was about halfway to no longer sober.

"I haven't made that decision yet, Maude."

"Then why're you here?"

I cleared my throat. "To see if you had anything to say about it."

She shook her head. "Nope. Not a thing. Take the job. See if I care."

I stood up and headed for the door. "Wait!" she cried out. "Don't leave."

"You got to make up your mind, Maude. Stay or go, I can't do both. Which is it?"

"I . . . don't . . . know. Cristian is dead. Why?"

"Because he tried to stop a robbery."

"He shouldn't have been . . . it was your fault."

I stood up and walked around the desk until I was right in front of her. "No, Maude, it wasn't my fault that Cristian got killed. It wasn't my fault that he was in the bank. Think back. You sent him to the bank to do something. What did you send him to do?" She might have admitted what she'd done to Doralice, but until she admitted it to me, out in the open, it still wasn't real.

She shook her head again. "I didn't . . . I didn't send him. I didn't send him!"

"Yes, you did. You sent him to have a deed transferred. A deed you were supposed to have transferred a long time ago. Think back, Maude. What deed did you send him to the bank with?"

"I didn't . . . I didn't . . . I . . . deed. What deed? The house deed? I sent him with the house deed? I sent him . . . I sent him . . . to the bank . . . it's my fault. I sent him . . . with the deed . . . it's my fault."

I sat back on my heels next to her – we were eye to eye. "It's not your fault, Maude. It's nobody's fault. Not mine, not yours. It just happened. He saved people's lives, but it cost him his own. It's not your fault." I'd barely gotten the last word out of my mouth before I had her in my arms, weeping profusely. There was nothing I could do but let her cry while she clung to me like one of my three-year-olds.

It was partly the brandy, partly her own sense of guilt that fueled the storm that passed through her. She'd pent up the pain for so long that all she could do was sob until there was nothing left inside her; no shame, no rage, no more blame, only the emptiness of having lost the one you didn't want to live without. When she finally stopped crying, I helped her sit back in her chair and gave her my handkerchief. When she was coherent again, she looked at me in bewilderment. "Why . . . why did I . . . fire . . . you?"

"I think . . . you needed somebody to blame, and you couldn't stand to look at that person, once you blamed 'em. I was the easiest target."

We sat in the lengthening silence for several minutes, until she could speak in complete sentences again. "I've been trying . . . to do this job for days . . . and I don't understand. How do you ever do all this work? I can't keep up."

I shrugged my shoulders. "I just do."

"I can't run Maude's without you." Not true, and not the words I wanted to hear. "I don't wanna run it without you." A little bit better, but still not quite perfect. "Don't take Bill Everdine's job. Come back to Maude's. I swear I'll never fire you again."

"You're sure? You're not gonna blame either one of us? You want me to come back?"

"I'm sure that I need you here to run this place; that I want you back here, where you belong. I'll have Willie get a couple of the boys in, and we'll move your office back in here today. You come to work in the morning. And go send Everdine a wire that says 'No thank you.'"

I reached over the desk and picked up the half-empty brandy bottle. "You don't need this anymore. I'll give it to Willie for safe-keeping on my way out."

"You're leaving?"

"I have to go send a wire. And tell my wife that I'm not goin' to Claytonville."

XXXXXXXX

By the time I sent the telegram to Bill Everdine and got home, I was exhausted. Maria Elena was doing laundry and Doralice was in the backyard with the girls and the chickens. I pulled off my boots, got undressed and crawled into bed. I was asleep within seconds. I don't know how long I slept, but when I woke up, there was a prickly cactus kissing me. "Mmmm. I didn't know cactus could kiss like that."

I heard something I hadn't heard for quite a while – a giggle. "Alright, I deserve that. I have been a bit of a pain, haven't I?"

I propped my head up on my elbow and looked at her. "A bit?"

"Tell me what happened."

"I go back to work tomorrow."

"At Maude's?"

"Yep."

The cactus rained kisses down all over my face. And it didn't hurt at all.

TBC


	14. And So It Begins

Chapter 13 – And So It Begins

I'd been back at work for two or three weeks when Pappy stopped in one afternoon. Maude was there going over the latest monthly reports with me, but Pappy knew she was gonna be there when he just happened to drop in. They sat in my office and chatted for a few minutes, then they moved the conversation to Billy Sunday's office and continued talking for close to an hour. Pappy's head popped back into my office and he announced, with a twinkle in his eye, "I'm taking Maude to dinner at Mamacita's. Don't wait up for us."

"Have a good time," I answered back.

When I went home sometime later, Doralice greeted me with, "Where's Momma? I thought she was coming home with you for dinner."

"She got a better offer. Pappy stopped by and took her to dinner at Mamacita's." My beautiful just-about-to-give-birth wife smiled. "What?" I asked. "What are you not telling me?"

"When we were at your father's last week he asked me if it was too soon to ask Maude to dinner, and I told him to go right ahead. If it was too soon she'd tell him so. Obviously it wasn't."

"Good, I'm glad. They've been friends for a long time; it'll do her good to go out with him."

"Handsome, I don't think he's got friendship on his mind."

That set me back for a minute; Cristian had been dead a little over a month. Then I gave it some thought. Neither one of them was getting any younger, there didn't seem to be much reason to wait. "Well, that's up to them, isn't it? I just hope they enjoy themselves."

After that first dinner they started to spend time together on a regular basis. Pappy seemed like a happier soul, and Maude was more at peace with everything. It took a little time, but the reconstructing of Maude Donovan had finally begun. I think Cristian de la Torres would be pleased.

The End


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